


Master Chef

by Jathis



Series: Dirty Fun With Boyfriends [36]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Cecearlos - Freeform, Cooking, Dorks in Love, Food, Multi, Polyamory, Puerto Rico, puerto rican carlos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 21:36:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2556632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jathis/pseuds/Jathis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos cooks some dinner for his boyfriends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Master Chef

Carlos could see the look of intense concentration on Earl’s face from the corner of his eye and he chuckled, shaking his head as he took the small kitchen spider, (a tool that had caused mass confusion when he first introduced it to Cecil and Earl, prompting the Night Valians to bombard him with questions about it and why it was called a spider when it bore no resemblance to the arachnid at all), and started to fish out the flat fritters from the bubbling oil. As he scooped them up, he placed them on a large folded over paper towel, letting the material soak up any excess oil as he hummed to himself. When he was finished he set the kitchen spider down and made a show of brush his hands off, turning to finally look over at a still very intense looking Earl Harlan.

“Now while I let these sit…the sofrito and chicken should be almost done so…” Carlos turned his attention to the pan that had been cooking, using a wooden spoon to mix it around briefly, checking the chicken for color before taking a small taste with the tip of his tongue against the end of the spoon. “Yeah, this is great!” he chirped, taking the pan off of the burner as he turned it off, smiling happily at Earl.

“…And this is just minced cod fish?” Earl asked, gesturing to the fritters once more.

“Bacalaítos, yes,” Carlos said with a nod of his head. “First you soak the cod fish in milk to get rid of most of the salt. Then you can take it and shred it and get it ready for the flour batter and the deep fryer.”

“That doesn’t sound too complicated,” Earl said.

“It’s not,” Carlos promised him with a smile. “This is usually eaten as like a side or a kind of treat or something while you’re walking around. Like a really good snack food! This sauce goes really well with it too! It’s called sofrito and we kinda like to use it to cook everything where my family is from,” he explained to the other, laughing a little as he did so.

“The island where the small frogs sing,” Earl noted.

“Precisely.”

“Even though they can only sing their names and nothing else.”

Carlos laughed, rolling his eyes a little. He always found it funny how disappointed Cecil and Earl had been to discover the true meaning behind the singing frogs of Puerto Rico. “They sing well enough for us.”

“I suppose so. It does seem like such things are rare outside of Night Vale anyway and usually animals aren’t brave enough to sing their own names out to everyone,” Earl muttered, almost to himself as he took down three plates from a cabinet, setting them down to help Carlos set up everything for dinner. He watched as the scientist lifted the lid from the pot of white rice, scooping that out first with a large spoon as a kind of base on each plate, giving each a good amount. When this was finished he poured a serving of sofrito and chicken on top of the rice, humming happily as the smell of spices and cooked meat filled the air. “Where did you learn to cook this?” Earl asked as three Bacalaítos were added to each plate on the side, the remaining placed on a smaller plate for anyone who wanted more of them later.

“My grandmother,” Carlos explained, picking up two of the plates and walking over to the table, setting them down as Earl set down the third and the plate of extra Bacalaítos. “She was always cooking stuff! She taught me everything she knew! My mom could never get the hang of it though,” he confessed.

“Why not?” Earl asked as he picked up an open bottle of wine, pouring the contents into three glasses.

“You know how my grandmother cooked?” Carlos asked, offering the other an amused smile. He waited for Earl to shake his head and he chuckled as he mimed reaching out and just grabbing random things, throwing them into an imaginary pot. “She never measured anything! She just grabbed things and knew exactly how much she needed,” he laughed, “drove my mother crazy! My mother was always about writing things down and getting exact measurements. My grandmother could never get my mother to understand how she did things.”

“Your grandmother must have been a master chef,” Earl noted.

“A chef? No, she was a…”

“All master chefs know how to cook without using recipes,” Earl continued, smiling a little as he idly adjusted the plates, making sure that each was exactly identical to the others. “She must have been very powerful to retain such a skill. Usually they become passed down through the bloodline. Maybe you’ll be revealed to be a master chef someday, hm?”

Carlos just laughed, nodding his head a little as he gave up trying to correct the redhead. “You wanna call Cecil for dinner or do you think he’ can sme..?”

“Dinner!” Cecil crowed as he ran into the kitchen, happily taking his seat as the others remained standing. “Oooh this looks good! What is it?” he asked, picking up a cod fritter and biting into it without waiting for an answer. “Oh! This tastes amazing!” he chirped as Carlos and Earl finally sat down, sharing a look between each other before they started to eat themselves.

“This is really good,” Earl said a moment later. “Night Vale should have more things cooked like this.”

“Thanks,” Carlos laughed, beaming a little with pride.

“Will you show me how to cook more things your master chef grandmother taught you?”

“Carlos’ grandmother was a master chef?!” Cecil gasped. He looked at Carlos with wide eyes then, his mouth open in pure amazement. “Carlos! Does that mean that one day you’ll be revealed to be a master chef too?!”

Carlos didn’t bother trying to correct either of his boyfriends, merely going back to his meal with a hum of satisfaction and pride and just a small amount of amusement.


End file.
